


What Cannot Be Named

by Lolulo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts, Cruciatus, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Safehouses, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 06:20:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16057313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lolulo/pseuds/Lolulo
Summary: Ron was enjoying rare bit of peace and quiet at one of his favourite safe houses. A one bedroom bungalow located in the middle of nowhere that was an extra pain in the arse to get to in terms of the number of apparitions required, meaning it was seldom used and Ron gleefully took advantage of this whenever possible (and whenever allowed under Hermione's Safe-House Standard Operating Procedures).5 times Ron and Draco meet at a safe house during the war and one time they don't.





	What Cannot Be Named

Ron was enjoying a rare bit of peace and quiet at one of his favourite safe houses. A one bedroom bungalow located in the middle of nowhere that was an extra pain in the arse to get to in terms of the number of apparitions required, meaning it was seldom used and Ron gleefully took advantage of this whenever possible (and whenever allowed under Hermione's Safe-House Standard Operating Procedures, of course). He had the whole evening planned in fact. He had the latest Quidditch Weekly to read, some of his mum's famous cauliflower cheese (fresh as well, without the stasis charm aftertaste) and a hip flask of firewhisky that Hermione knew nothing about. Later he was planning on indulging himself in the weirdly generous bath with a luxurious wank only someone who knew they weren't going to be interrupted could afford. Perfect. 

Of course Snape came along and ruined everything. Best laid plans and all that…

Snape stepped through the floo as soon as Ron had set himself up on the sofa with a cuppa and turned to the editors letter of Quidditch Weekly (yes, he did read the thing thank you very much, although he will admit that some of the photos were later revisited during said luxurious bath wank).

“What is it, what's happened?”, Ron sprung up from the sofa. He hadn't been contacted by any of the regular emergency protocols so it must be bad if they were sending Snape in person. 

“Nothing dire Mr. Weasley, you may be seated”. 

Ron sat and was immediately annoyed with himself for following Snape's orders as though they were back at Hogwarts. 

“You are aware of the existence of Operation X are you not?”

“Yes”, Ron nodded. The details of Operation X were a closely held secret within The Order, only those directly involved were privy to any details. Rumours ranged from the mundane (some sort of newly developed tracking charm on a few key Death Eaters) to the absurd (The Order was funding a concubine for Voldemort's personal use hoping to distract the other side's war effort, Ron is pretty sure Neville came up with this one but has no proof as yet). 

“You are also aware of the Safe-House SOP Section 7, Paragraph 5?”

Another nod from Ron, Hermione had made them learn all the SOPs off by heart. Although Ron had been glad for a respite from risk of actual death and injury it still ranked as one of his least favourite weeks of the war thus far. Section 7, Paragraph 5 described the emergency protocol for housing any undercover agents deemed too at risk to continue with their current mission. Huh. 

“You also have the mandatory first aid training certification, correct?”

“Of course. Look Snape will you get to the bloody point, I had plans this evening", Ron waved his copy of Quidditch Weekly to demonstrate. 

Snape pursed his lips and glared at Ron. 

“Mr. Weasley we are at war. If catching up on your literature is more important than the war effort then do let me know and I can arrange for you to join the EWE. I'm sure they will be delighted to discuss what David Smith's wife thinks of his move to Puddlemere United!” Snape grounds out with a quick glance at the front of Ron's literature. The EWE being the Elderly Witches Efforts, and as far as Ron could tell their only contribution to the war effort thus far was about 5000 knitted tea cosies which were spilling out of cupboards at Grimmauld Place. Ron had no idea what that was about and didn't care to enquire further for fear of being commandeered as their connection to The Order, that current delight belonged to Fred as punishment for spiking the punch at last year's Christmas get together at Grimmauld Place.

Ron sighed and closed his eyes briefly. 

“Snape. We're not at Hogwarts anymore and I'm pretty sure that by now I've demonstrated my full commitment to all things war related. So will you please just tell me what is going on and what I am needed to help with so that I can bloody well get on with it”.

There, thought Ron, that felt suitably mature. Bloody cryptic bat, he had no idea why Harry liked him so much. 

Snape eyed him again before he turned back to the floo, left, and re-entered less than a minute later with non other than Draco sodding Death Eater Malfoy in tow. 

Ah, Ron was rethinking his recently demonstrated maturness, but was loath to lose any ground made with Snape now so he said nothing. 

Snape turned and pointed at Malfoy.

“You. I will collect you tomorrow morning, I trust you will refrain from baiting the local wildlife until my return? I have spent not inconsiderable effort keeping you alive and would be most displeased for it to go to waste”. A small nod from Malfoy was the only response. 

“And you”, he turned to face Ron who rolled his eyes and waited for whatever dig Snape had for him. Snape paused for a moment with his finger in the air. It seemed as though he'd maybe changed his mind about what he was going to say.

“Cruciatus potions, I trust they are available here and you know how they should be taken?”.

“Yes”, replied Ron. 

Snape gave a little bow, spat out a snide (or at least Ron decided it sounded snide), “Gentlemen”, and stepped into the floo. 

Neither Ron nor Malfoy moved. Malfoy's gaze was trained on the fireplace Snape had just exited through and Ron was examining his short term housemate. Malfoy looked slightly older, as one would expect, but he obviously hadn't experienced the same growth spurt that Ron had just after leaving Hogwarts. As such, he was now several inches shorter than Ron, Ron quite liked that actually, probably something about Malfoy trying to, and often succeeding at making him feel inferior for so many years. His hair was shorter as well than when Ron had last seen him, but less greasy and not slicked back like he wore it in school, it now framed his face and Ron thought it made him seem a little less pointy. His face was thinner now, and his features looked a little pinched actually, bags under his eyes, like he wasn't getting enough sleep. Ron remembered Snape's parting words about Cruciatus potions and attributed it to that. Apart from his head the only bit of skin Ron could see were the hands Malfoy had fisted at his sides, Ron thought he could see them trembling slightly. He still looked similar enough to Ron's teenage nemesis for some of the old feelings of the hatred that had thrummed through him in every interaction they had at school to resurface though. He was trying to reconcile his image of Malfoy to some of the things The Order had achieved with the help of Operation X and the danger that Malfoy had obviously acquiesced to enduring in the name of the war when he was interrupted. 

“Like what you see Weaselby?” Malfoy sneered.

“Sure, emaciated Death Eater really floats my boat Malfoy. Fuck off.” Ron rolled his eyes again and took a deep breath. 

“Look, you're a stuck up prick and a Death Eater and we hate each other. But there's obviously something going on with you and Operation X and I'm not keen on pissing Snape off and being stuck on EWE duty. So, let's just, ermmm, you know, get on with it”, he'd run out of steam a little at the end there but Ron figured he'd got his point across and without looking to see Malfoy's reaction he fled to the bathroom to collect the Cruciatus potions Snape had requested.

True to form Malfoy had made himself comfortable on the couch by the time Ron came back and was leafing through Quidditch Weekly.  
He almost flung the three potions down on the coffee table to a snide, “Knew they'd make a houself of you one day”.

“Red, then the orange one, then green. Traffic light system. No, I don't know what that means either. Wait five minutes between each one or your stomach won't thank you later. Now sod off and leave me in peace”, he loudly continued over Malfoy's insult. 

Ron stomped dramatically out to the kitchen, and then stomped back in to collect his magazine and now lukewarm tea and slammed the door behind him. He sat at one of the uncomfortable wooden stools at the kitchen table, shot a half-hearted warming charm at the tea and restarted the editors letter. 

Oh fuck, he suddenly thought. There was only one bed. No way in hell was Ron going to share with the ferret. He decided he'd just claim the bed and not put up with any bullshit complaints on Malfoy’s part, he'd probably only comment on how Ron should be used to sleeping in substandard accommodations due to the Burrow anyway. 

Ron had a small bowl of the cauliflower cheese, and then, sighing to himself at being a total sap and turning entirely into his mother, he left some out for Malfoy as well. Waiting on him was taking it a lot further than Ron could manage at this point, but he figured it probably wouldn't go down too well if he let the man who was apparently their most accomplished undercover operative starve while in his presence. The git could fend for himself if he wanted it though. 

He contemplated his previous plans for the evening and decided a bath (let alone quality time with his right hand and one of the charms passed down through the Gryffindor boys dorm room) with Malfoy in the next room sounded entirely unappealing and not the least bit relaxing, so he made a fresh cuppa and took Quidditch Weekly off to read in bed. Ron paused outside the shut living room door, considered that if he was Hermione he'd at least look in to make sure one of the most valuable assets of the war was still breathing, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, Snape, Hermione and his mother be damned. 

Ron warded the bedroom door with as many charms as he could recall and surprised himself by falling quickly into a deep dreamless sleep. 

By the time he woke the next morning there was no trace of Malfoy to be seen. Ron triple checked the smarmy git had definitely vacated the premises, blocked the floo to all but emergency calls and ran himself a long overdue and very private bath.

**Author's Note:**

> All errors my own. Any and all feedback welcome. 
> 
> Updates likely fortnightly.


End file.
